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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29739480">Your Song Sounds Like Home</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlyofDragon/pseuds/FlyofDragon'>FlyofDragon</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alex Manes Loves Michael Guerin, Communication, Feelings, Getting Back Together, M/M, Michael Guerin Loves Alex Manes, Open Mic, season 3 wish fic, singing feelings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 21:13:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,645</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29739480</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlyofDragon/pseuds/FlyofDragon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The sound of guitar strings being plucked made Alex pause mid-sip and swivel in his seat. He always preferred the musicians to the poets at these things.</p><p>--<br/>It's another open mic at the Wild Pony. And Alex has a question to answer.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Michael Guerin/Alex Manes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>89</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Your Song Sounds Like Home</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I started this a while ago and finally got around to finishing it. This is my self-indulgent season 3 wish fic and I don't care what Vlamis says about his singing voice. Auto tune is a thing. Or a voice double. Just saying. </p><p>The song is my own, do not steal it please. That would be mean.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Alex walked into the bar just as the open mic was starting. He would have been there earlier but Maria was adamant that she and Forrest were fine and did not need his help setting up and he should enjoy the extra time off his feet. He still liked to support all the artists though, so he made sure to get there for the start of the event. He nodded to Forrest when their eyes met and left it at that. Forrest was a friend. Alex’s heart had been taken a long time ago.</p><p>He took a seat at the bar and listened to the current performer recite some, quite frankly, bad poetry. He still snapped in support with most of the other patrons before Maria met him on her side of the bar.</p><p>“Hey!” she greeted him while uncapping a beer and sliding it across to him. Another poet had taken the stage. “You ready for tonight?”</p><p>Alex took a sip of his beer. “Never fully ready,” he said, “but more ready than last time.” He sipped at his beer again. They chatted with each other over the sound of semi-decent poetry for a minute until another patron waved at Maria for service.</p><p>The sound of guitar strings being plucked made Alex pause mid-sip and swivel in his seat. He always preferred the musicians to the poets at these things – not that he’d ever tell that to Forrest. Alex took in the sight of the well-loved guitar now on the stage. Then he saw the strong, lean hands holding it and the worn but surprisingly clean jeans it was resting on. His eyes travelled upwards and widened at the sight of worn flannel and messy curls and the black cowboy hat sitting on a nearby stool.</p><p>“Hey everyone,” Michael started and cleared his throat. “I don’t really do words. Or singing. But this seemed like a good idea earlier, so.” He plucked at the strings again, like he was distracted. Or was distracting himself.</p><p>Alex whirled around to look for Maria, to glare at her or accuse her or demand answers or <em>something</em> but she was gone. Alex couldn’t blame her. He wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of his interrogation either. He didn’t even know what he’d say.</p><p>“Uh, this is for someone way better at singing than me,” Michael was continuing, still unconsciously picking the strings. “You know where to find me.”</p><p>
  <em>I know you blame me<br/>
</em>
  <em>For all the times I pushed you away and made you leave<br/>
</em>
  <em>You should know that I blame me too</em>
</p><p>Michael’s voice rang out strong and clear. Alex was surprised by it. They had played together before but Michael never wanted to sing. Just play.</p><p>
  <em>I know you’re hurting<br/>
</em>
  <em>From everything I put you through since the beginning<br/>
</em>
  <em>You should know that I’m hurting too</em>
</p><p>Alex had known, from the second he registered Michael on the stage, that this was going to be for him. He hadn’t been expecting this level of raw honesty though and he was starting to choke up. He was not prepared for this song.</p><p>
  <em>Cause you and this guitar were the only things that made life quiet<br/>
</em>
  <em>But you said that you wouldn’t be my medicine<br/>
</em>
  <em>So I tried to drown out the noises and voices<br/>
</em>
  <em>Without you</em>
</p><p>
  <em>All my life I’ve wanted love, needed love but couldn’t figure out how to take it<br/>
</em>
  <em>I wanted to be good at love, good for someone<br/>
</em>
  <em>But there’s no one I could love like you<br/>
</em>
  <em>So if you’re listening, I need to know<br/>
</em>
  <em>Can I come home?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I know you’re hopeful<br/>
</em>
  <em>That we can put the past behind us and move forward<br/>
</em>
  <em>You should know that I’m hopeful too</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I know you’re frightened<br/>
</em>
  <em>That I’ll repeat history and try to run again<br/>
</em>
  <em>You should know that I’m frightened too</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Cause you and this guitar were the only things that made life quiet<br/>
</em>
  <em>But you said that you wouldn’t be my medicine<br/>
</em>
  <em>So I tried to drown out the noises and voices<br/>
</em>
  <em>Without you</em>
</p><p>
  <em>All my life I’ve wanted love, needed love but couldn’t figure out how to take it<br/>
</em>
  <em>I wanted to be good at love, good for someone<br/>
</em>
  <em>But there’s no one I could love like you<br/>
</em>
  <em>So if you’re listening, I need to know<br/>
</em>
  <em>Can I come home?</em>
</p><p>Alex tried to catch his breath as Michael stopped singing and played out the bridge. It didn’t work.</p><p>
  <em>You and this guitar were the only things that made life quiet<br/>
</em>
  <em>It’s time to be my own medicine<br/>
</em>
  <em>I’m through with trying to drown out the noises and voices<br/>
</em>
  <em>We can put them in a song</em>
</p><p>
  <em>All my life I’ve wanted love, needed love but couldn’t figure out how to take it<br/>
</em>
  <em>I wanted to be good at love, good for someone<br/>
</em>
  <em>But there’s no one I could love like you<br/>
</em>
  <em>So if you’re listening,<br/>
</em>
  <em>Oh please be listening,</em><br/>
<em>I need to know<br/>
</em>
  <em>Can I come home?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I’m a better me than I was at seventeen</em>
</p><p>As the song ended, the crowd erupted into applause. Alex sat motionless, his breath still catching in his throat. He watched as Michael returned the hat to his head and took himself and his guitar out of the Pony. He remained frozen.</p><p>“Well that was something,” Maria’s voice came from behind Alex.</p><p>He turned to face her, not the least bit surprised that she’d suddenly reappeared. “Did you plan this?” he asked.</p><p>Maria hesitated. “I helped,” she admitted, wiping down the bar. “But it was his idea.”</p><p>“His idea?” Alex furrowed his brow.</p><p>“He came to me and Forrest a couple weeks ago, when we started looking for performers,” she explained. “He asked us to keep it from you. He said he needed you to hear him and this was the best way he could think of.”</p><p>“Why didn’t he just talk to me,” asked Alex, more to himself than to Maria.</p><p>“Would you have listened?” Maria asked. She offered him a shrug.</p><p>Alex opened his mouth and closed it again. He closed his eyes and exhaled. “I don’t know.” He had so many thoughts racing through his mind. Thoughts, feelings, information that he didn’t have before. It was all so much and he couldn’t process it.</p><p>“Look,” Maria interrupted his thoughts. “I get that everything is probably a lot right now. And you two were already dealing with a lot. But he asked you a question. You should probably give him an answer.”</p><p>An answer. Right. That was definitely something Alex should do. He drank the last of his beer and stood up a little too quickly. Blood rushed from his head. “I’m fine,” he told Maria. “I’ll be back.”</p><p>“Hey, you’re on soon!” she called after him. He ignored her.</p><p>Alex found Michael leaning against the outside wall of the Pony next to the door. His hat was angled down as he kept his gaze fixed on his boots and his guitar case was leaning next to him.</p><p>“Hey,” Alex said softly.</p><p>Michael lifted his head and met Alex’s eyes. “Hey,” he replied.</p><p>“You stayed,” Alex said.</p><p>“You came,” Michael said.</p><p>Alex felt a smile tugging at his lips. “You asked me to.”</p><p>They stared at each other for a minute, small smiles forming as they remembered those words from another time. Alex cleared his throat. “I didn’t know you were playing again.” He gestured to the guitar. Michael shrugged. “What’s the song called?”</p><p>“Medicine,” said Michael. “Took me a while to get it right.”</p><p>“Makes sense,” Alex said, kicking a stray rock. “My song took a while too. Nothing about us was ever going to be easy, was it?”</p><p>Michael gave a half chuckle. “I guess not,” he said.</p><p>“Your song though…”</p><p>“Did you like it?” He sounded hopeful.</p><p>“Yeah.” Alex held Michael’s gaze. “Except for one thing.”</p><p>“What’s that?” Michael asked.</p><p>Alex stepped into Michael’s space. “I don’t blame you.”</p><p>“You don’t?”</p><p> “I might have, before,” Alex said, “but I also blamed myself.”</p><p>Michael blinked. “But you said I was so damn good at giving you reasons to walk away.”</p><p>Alex nodded. “And I was so damn good at taking them.” He paused to collect his thoughts. There might only be this one shot and he needed it to go right. “You pushed because you needed to prove that unconditional love didn’t exist. I ran because I believed that I didn’t deserve unconditional love. No matter how hard you pushed, I always knew you loved me and I knew it wasn’t really me you were fighting. But that wasn’t something I could handle so I took your excuses and I ran.”</p><p>“That sounds like something my therapist would say,” Michael commented.</p><p>“It’s something my therapist <em>did</em> say.”</p><p>Michael leaned his head back and laughed softly. “We’re a mess aren’t we?” he said.</p><p>“Completely,” Alex agreed. “But you’re my mess and I’m yours and you’re coming home with me tonight.”</p><p>“What? Really?” Michael stood up straight. “Alex, but…”</p><p>“No buts,” Alex said. “You asked a question. Here’s my answer. After my song, we’re going back to my house. Our home. And you’re going to take me apart with all the time in the world like you used to out in your truck in the desert and like I know you’ve been wanting to. Tomorrow we’ll go get the Airstream and haul it over to the house. No more keeping score and no more excuses.”</p><p>“I love you,” Michael blurted out.</p><p>Alex’s face softened. He cupped one hand around Michael’s neck and brought the other to Michael’s cheek. He brushed a thumb over his lips. “I love you too,” he said, before leaning in to press his lips to Michael’s. Michael’s hands found Alex’s hips and tugged him closer. Alex pushed Michael against the wall and himself against Michael.</p><p>They had come home.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm on Tumblr! @writingbisexually</p></blockquote></div></div>
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